


Magehunt

by Overgrown_Druid



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends, First Aid, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attacks, Pyromaniac Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Some SBI, Some angst, Sort Of, Trust Issues, l'manberg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29440122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overgrown_Druid/pseuds/Overgrown_Druid
Summary: When you’re being hunted for what you are and what you can do, it’s hard to get a life, goals, friends, etc. Dream manages.OrDream is being hunted for being a mage, but the hunters may care for him more than he realizes.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Darryl Noveschosch, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 358





	1. The Hunters

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! New series Pog!

He stretches and sits up on the tree branch he’d been sleeping on, trying to sooth his aching back. It’s only been two days and he’s already tired of sleeping in trees.

He looks up and grabs his bag and utility belt that he’d tied onto the tree branch above him. Once he had them, he jumped out of the tree, rolling to the ground. He stands up and clips the belt around his waist and straps his iron axe to it.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a white disc with a smiley face drawn on it. He uses the leather strap connected to it to tie it over his face, covering his eyes, cheeks, nose, forehead, and basically anything above his mouth.

He stretches once more, green hoodie shifting with his movements, before he sets off into the forest, brown boots snapping the twigs and leaves under them.

He reviews his goals in his mind. Goal one, get to a stronghold. Goal two, survive.

It’s hard to do anything other than survive when your life is constantly being threatened by hunters who’ve been sent to kill you. He makes it work.

*****

_He stands in front of the throne, head bowed._

_“Look at me.” The king says. He listens, facing the slightly overweight man who’s covered in jewels, fur, and fine fabrics. A gold crown sits on his head, jewels shining in the chandelier’s light. “Do you know why I summoned you, Dream?”_

_“No, your majesty.” He says, flicking his eyes under the mask to look around the room._

_“I have some unfortunate news about your mother.” Dream freezes, eyes snapping to the king. “She has, unfortunately, died.”_

_Dream freezes. His mother was perfectly healthy. “Do-do you know the cause of death?” He asks, voice wavering._

_The king nods. “Execution.” Dream tenses. He can piece this together on his own. But the king continues. “It’s a shame, really. She was the best medic we had. Do you have any idea why she would have been executed?” Dream shakes his head numbly, playing dumb. “Well, someone caught her using magic, which as I’m sure you know, is illegal and punishable by death.”_

_Dream nods, holding back tears. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for telling me personally. If I may go, I would like to grieve in peace.”_

_The king shakes his head. “Well, I need you for one more thing.” Dream nods. “You see, it isn’t uncommon for mages to pass their knowledge onto their children.” The king leans forward. “Dream, are you a mage?”_

_Dream shakes his head. “No, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware that she was one either.”_

_The king hums. “But she’s your mother.”_

_“She adopted me when I was ten, Your Highness. I could not have known everything about her.”_

_The king sighs. “Well then, I hope you can explain why the report also states that you’re a mage.”_

_Dream laughs dryly. “It’s probably just speculation.”_

_The king nods. “I’m sure. I’m sure you can also explain the reports of your sustaining injuries while on duty, only for you to be fine the next day?”_

Crap.

_He smiles. “I am the son of a cleric, sir, I know how to heal wounds using herbs and other methods. It also helps that I am fast to get over a wound.”_

_The king nods. “And your arm?”_

_“Yes?”_

_“Well, it’s just that there was a report a few weeks ago of you breaking your arm and it’s being healed the next day. Which, I have been assured, is not possible without the use of high level healing potions or magic. And you haven't checked into the infirmary in nearly two years.” Dream takes a step back, hand flitting to the sword strapped to his side. The guards around the walls notice, and draw their swords. “Now, since you are one of my best knights, Dream, I will give you a chance. You have one day to gather everything you need and to run. After twenty-four hours have passed, I will send three hunters after you. They will have sufficient motivation to kill you and bring proof of such back to me.”_

_The king smiles as Dream takes a few more steps back. “Time starts now. You’re dismissed.”_

_Dream turns and runs out of the throne room. On his way out, a knight steps forward and swipes at him with her sword. He steps back but she still manages to hit his arm, drawing some blood. He runs past her, heading towards his room in the barracks to grab everything he needs._

*****

His first encounter with the hunters, is… less than ideal. He was trekking through the forest, bloody axe in one hand and a dead chicken in the other, when he heard three voices coming from somewhere else in the forest.

“Shut up George. We’ve only been looking for three days, he couldn’t have gone far.”

“Well I’m sorry that I’m suggesting a realistic possibility.” When he realized that the voices were coming closer, he grabbed his mask from where it sat on the side of his head and pulled it over his face. He kept walking forward, trying to find the river he had seen earlier so he could clean up and wash the chicken before cooking it.

“Guys, stop fighting.” About that moment, three people stepped out of a particularly thick area of the forest. He froze when they all looked at him. “Ah, hello!” The one wearing a balck hood says, “Do you think you could help us?”

He notices the other two men staring at him but decides to ignore it unless it becomes a problem. “Um, yeah?”

The man nods. “Thank you! You see, we think out compasses are broken-”

“Bad.” The black haired man cuts him off. The man he was just talking to looks over to him. The brown and black haired men are looking down at their compasses. The hooded man pulls one out and looks at it too, looking back up at Dream, and then back at the compass.

“Um, everything ok?” Dream asks hesitantly, taking a small step forward to try to see what they’re looking at. All of them snap their heads up to look at him. The one with the black hair draws an iron sword and the one with the brown hair grabs his bow off his back, nocking an arrow.

It takes him a second to realize what situation he’s in. Here’s a mysterious man in the forest, hands and axe covered in blood, and a weird white mask that’s smeared with blood from when he moved it. And now that he thinks about it, it’s been awhile since he had run out of the king’s throne room. “Oh.” He says out loud.

They all look at each other for a minute and the tension in the air is palpable.

So, he does the only thing he can think of.

He throws the dead chicken at them and runs.

*****

He sits in a tree that night, that one moment playing on a loop in his mind. Not the best introduction.

*****

He runs through the forest, three people chasing after him with swords and tracking compasses. When he was injured in the throne room, his blood was used to make three tracking compasses, which are always pointing directly to him.

“Dreeeaammmm!” Someone calls out behind him.

“Leave me alone!” He yells.

“Dreammmm!” Another voice yells, this one closer and coming from the right.

So yeah, he’s doing great.

He keeps running through the forest until he finds what he’s looking for. A tree. A specific tree. This one has low hanging branches, one of which he grabs onto as he’s running, pulling himself up into the tree. He climbs onto larger branches, making his way to the top. He hears the three hunters at the base of the tree not too long after.

“He climbed up.” The one with the goggles says.

“No crap, Sherlock.” The one wearing the headband says. “We should burn it down. Smoke him out.”

The last hunter wears a black hood and judging by his immediate refusal of Headband’s plan, he actually has some sense. “That could start a forest fire, Sapnap.” 

While they argue about how to get him out of the tree (hopefully without burning the entire forest down), he runs to the end of the branch he’s on and jumps off, catching the branch of another tree right before he falls. He pulls himself up into that tree, and repeats the process. 

“He’s running!” Goggles shouts. 

“In the tree? Nice try, George.” Sapnap says with a scoff.

“He’s right.” Hood says, slightly panicked. Dream jumps into another tree. “The compass points that way.”

He hears them running and picks up the pace, swinging from tree to tree, using his momentum to swing him into another one each time. Up ahead, he sees the forest start to clear, trees dotted around less frequently. Soon, he won’t have a tree to swing into.

“Dream!”

“Get down here, you muffin!” 

He’s not just running out of trees, he’s running out of time. He swings off the branch he’s holding onto, dropping into a roll and springing up. As he stands, his ankle stings with a sharp pain. He ignores it and picks up into a full speed run.

He comes to the edge of a ravine. Looking around the bottom, he doesn’t see any water he can jump into. He keeps looking and finds the opening to a mineshaft directly below him, the entrance covered in cobwebs. Bingo.

He turns around. The three hunters catch up to him, surrounding him in a sort of semicircle, their swords drawn. “Dream.” The hooded hunter in front of him says, “Please come with us.”

Dream pretends like he’s thinking the offer over before he sighs. “Sorry, can’t.” He takes a step over the edge of the ravine, holding two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. They scramble to reach him as he free falls over the edge, George reaching out to grab him, fingertips just brushing the fabric of his hoodie. He lands fifteen blocks down, in the cobwebs, unharmed.

“Dream!” The same hooded hunter shouts. He lets them watch as he untangles himself from the sticky strings, using a stick he finds beside him to clear them up so that the hunters can't follow his lead. He looks up and waves at them, disappearing into the mineshaft.

He walks through the mineshaft, ankle shooting a hot pain up his leg with every step, distantly hearing the hunters panic. Once he’s a fair distance away, he drops to the ground, leaning against a wall. He rolls up the leg of his pants, takes off his boot, and looks at his definitely twisted ankle.

He sighs and puts his hands together, fingertips touching and space between his fingers. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and recites the spell for healing. He flattens his hands together and twists them both sideways, dragging his palms across each other and balling them up when they separate. He opens his eyes.

Held in his hands is a coiled pink rope. It glows faintly, casting everything near him in a dim, pink light. He slowly lets the rope go and it floats up in front of him, twisting in midair a few times, turning into what he can only describe as a tangled mass of wire.

He waits for a second, and soon enough, he sees an end of the wire stick out of the side. He moves his hand toward it, but doesn’t grab it. It stiffens, under his control. He flicks a finger to his twisted ankle and the string shoots forward, unraveling the mass of tangled cord as it goes.

It wraps around his ankle, twisting around the joint as the rest of the pink wire follows, until his whole ankle is covered in glowing pink strings. They glow brightly for a second, before they slowly start to disintegrate into the air as floating pink dust. When it all disintegrates, he stands up, shifting his weight onto it.

When no pain comes with the movement, he reaches down and picks up his boot, sliding it back onto his foot. Technically, the healing spell can be used without it turning into a hot mess of glowing magic, but it’s slightly more difficult and Dream is willing to wait the extra thirty seconds for it to tangle and untangle itself. He tests his ankle once more, just to make sure it’s completely healed, which it is.

He moves farther down into the mineshaft.


	2. Broken Bones and Glowing Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George needs medical attention and Dream is the only one around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye another chapter lets goooo

He walks down the steep stones, carefully watching his steps. Any lapse in step could cause any number of injuries that George is not willingly to experience.

Sapnap, on the other hand, is not nearly as concerned.

“Oh my gosh, let’s go!” He fusses at George and Bad as he bounds down the sharp incline. “You two move slower than my dead grandma.”

George laughs and Bad squawks something unintelligible about respecting the dead. He takes another careful step down. “Come on, Sapnap, we don’t want to get hurt.”

The pyromaniac huffs. “We have to catch up with him! He probably used his witchcraft to float all the way down so that we couldn’t catch him!”

“He’s not a witch.” Bad corrects. “Witches study the body and healing spells, often using their knowledge for evil. Mages specialize in a wide variety of topics, usually focusing on potions and enchantments. They try to help people.” No one questions how Bad knows all of this. He was naturally a walking encyclopedia. 

George furrows his brow. “If they try to help people, then why are mages prohibited?”

Bad shakes his head. “They used to help people. Now, the only practicing mages use their magic to undermine the king. No one can have that much power and keep good intentions.”

Sapnap sighs and jumps down another few feet, almost giving Bad a heart attack if the look on his face is anything to go off of. “Exactly. Now you two grandmas hurry up so we can go catch this evildoer.”

George rolls his eyes but picks up the pace.

*****

Dream sits down and pushes his back up against the furnace with what little iron ore he had gathered in it. The warmth it provides is more than welcome against the cave’s biting cold that chills him through his hoodie. He sighs and presses further against the furnace. His neck starts getting sweaty but he doesn’t care.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, and his iron finishes smelting. He stands up and stretches, turning to the furnace and carefully pulling the iron out. He grabs some sticks from his bag and quickly crafts a pickaxe. Once that’s done, he grabs his crafting table and furnace, and continues his trek down the mines.

He stops every now and then to grab any ores he finds. Gold, iron, coal, and even a few small emeralds are pulled from the walls. They’re not big enough to trade with but he keeps them anyway, if just for how pretty they look.

He’s leaning against another warm furnace when he hears familiar bickering coming from down the mines. He sighs and stands up to gather his materials. He finishes just in the nick of time, because as soon as he pockets his iron, he hears feet hitting the stone behind him.

He turns around to Sapnap standing at the base of a small incline, sword out and pointing at him. “I found him!”

Dream turns and runs deeper into the cave, ducking into a small offshoot of the main cave farther down. Three pairs of feet chase him. He runs down the small cave, the hunters calling his name behind him, though distance doesn’t matter with how loud the resounding echo is. The cave takes a sharp turn and he follows it, almost running headfirst into a dead end.

“Dreammm!” He quickly turns around. The hunters stand a few feet away, George in the front and Bad and Sapnap behind him. The leading hunter smiles. “Nowhere to run.”

Dream looks around wildly for anything that could help him. He smiles when his eye catches the pocket of gravel in front of him, suspended on the roof. “Yeah.” He pulls out his pickaxe and George jumps forward, right as he throws it upwards at the gravel.

It falls.

*****

Dream pulls out an iron pickaxe and George jumps forward, trying to hit him. But instead of fighting, Dream throws the pickaxe up and forward.

There’s a loud noise and George blacks out for a few seconds.

He comes back around quickly and has to blink away the haze in front of his eyes. There’s something heavy on his back, and he can’t move. Everything is dark.

Something shifts in front of him and light floods the small area he’s trapped in. He blinks his eyes a few times again. “Sorry about that.” Someone says. He’s only half conscious when he’s pulled away from the thing trapping him and propped against a wall. He shifts his position but a hot pain shoots its way up his leg and he leans his head back, squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a sharp breath through his teeth. His haze clears up completely with the pain and he opens his eyes to see Dream squatting in front of him. 

He’s snapping his fingers in front of his face but stops when he notices that George is focusing on him. “Hey, welcome back.” Dream says. “Does anything hurt?” He pushes himself up against the wall in an attempt to put distance between them, but his leg quickly vetoes that decision via pain. He takes another sharp breath in and leans his head against the wall, squeezing his eyes closed. “Taking that as a yes.”

‘This is where I die.’ George thinks, opening his eyes and looking back to Dream with what is hopefully a glare. He shifts his arms so his hands are pushing on the floor, making his shoulders rise up. ‘I’m wounded and can’t move. He’s perfectly fine and being hunted. It would be nothing for him to draw his axe and c-’

Dream puts a hand on his shin and George’s brain short circuits at how light the touch is. “I’m going to point to different areas and I need you to tell me if it hurts. A shake or a nod will do since you can’t seem to talk yet.” George slowly nods, eyes wide. Dream lifts his hand up and points to his head. He shakes his head. Right thigh. He shakes his head. Right shin. Head shake. Left shin. He nods slowly. “Ok. I’m going to have to touch it to gauge the damage.” 

Dream lays his hand on his leg and puts some pressure on it. More pain shoots up his leg and George recoils, dragging his leg towards him despite the ache. He wraps his arms around it, trying to block Dream off. “Don’t touch it!”

Dream doesn’t seem to be phased by the outburst. “Awesome, you’re verbal again.” He moves his hand back to George’s leg (ignoring his arms which George doesn’t appreciate) and puts more pressure on it, moving his hand down.

George holds his leg tighter. “I said don’t touch it!” The stabbing pain becomes a steady, aching throb and George decides he doesn’t like all that much.

Dream pulls his hand back and looks at him, “So. You’ve fractured your leg. I can heal it, but I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

George glares at him. “I don’t want you to.”

Dream sits down and crosses his legs. “Did I mention that you don’t get a choice in the matter?” He folds his hands together and squeezes them.

“What the heck are you do-” George gets cut off when Dream makes a sound like he’s choking on his own tongue. He unfolds his hands and holds one palm up. In it is a black-gray smoke that curls up from an unknown source.

“Give me your hand please.” Dream says, holding his smokey hand out. He shakes his head and Dream uses his smoke free hand to grab one of George’s, dragging it forward. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He places George’s hand on top of his smokey one and the smoke winds its way up his arm. He pulls his arm back and it drops like a sack of bricks. He tries to move it again, but he can’t.

“What did you do?!” He looks at Dream, who’s using his smoke hand to make smoke wrap around his broken leg and his other arm. They go slack as he loses feeling in them.

Dream shrugs and twists his hand around in the air, making the smoke disappear. “Weakness is a good alternative for painkillers.” George tries to focus on the pain in his leg, but he can’t even feel his leg, so the pain is gone as well. He really hates this situation but _dang_ if that doesn’t feel good.

“Undo it so I can kick your butt.” He says, kicking his one free leg out in Dream’s direction. Dream clasps his hands together again like before and George settles down, not wanting to lose feeling in his one cooperating limb.

“Thank you.” Dream nods. He reaches forward and puts his hands over George’s leg, hovering them right over the break. “Can I roll up your pants leg? The spell needs skin contact to work.”

Geore would cross his arms if he could. A pointed glare will have to suffice. “Do I get a choice?”

Dream smiles and starts rolling the fabric up. “Nope.” He pops the p at the end. 

Once the fabric is out of the way, he pushes his hands flat against each other and says something that George can’t understand, dragging his hands across each other and balling his fists. A glowing pink rope slowly starts to materialize in his hands and George looks on, dumbfounded, as Dream slowly lets the rope go. It floats up, tangling itself into a mass of magic in the air. They sit there, staring at it, until Dream sees something George doesn't. He moves his hand toward it, stopping just short of the rope. He points a finger to George’s leg and a strand shoots out of the mass, wrapping around the leg, bringing the rest of the rope with it. George stares at it as it wraps around his leg, glowing brightly and disintegrating into the air.

Dream sighs and George looks up at him. The other man gets up and stretches. George winces when he hears his back crack. “Ok, that should do it.” He walks over the gravel wall he’d created not long ago and props a furnace up, putting in some coal and ore.

“That’s it?” George asks. He still can’t move his leg. “How do I know that you didn’t just poison me?”

Dream laughs and sits down, leaning against the side of the furnace. Tension he hadn’t noticed before bleeds out of his shoulders as soon as they make contact with the hot surface. “I’ve never really practiced with poisons, actually. Never saw a need.”

“What about the weakness?”

Dream shrugs and digs through his bag by his side, pulling something small out. “Like I said, painkiller.” He opens his hand and sets two small emeralds on the ground. He sits back up and puts his hands together in a circle. “I honestly prefer the more medical spells to the more fighting based ones, though they both have their merits.” He says another spell and a single blue string appears in the space between his hands, wrapping in on itself infinitely to create a small ball.

“What’s that?” George asks.

Dream shrugs, moving his hands so that he holds the ball. “Hopefully something that won’t be used.” He reaches two fingers into the ball, pulling out the end of a string. He places it next to one of the emeralds and it wraps around the gemstone tightly before rapidly loosening. He points at the other emerald and it shoots over, wrapping around that one and dissolving into the air. The second emerald starts vibrating and moving towards the first one.

Dream ignores it, and pushes himself off the burned out furnace, reaching in and grabbing a few pieces of gold. “So, how’d you become a bounty hunter?” He asks as he sets up a crafting table.

George leans his head against the wall. “Why do you ask?”

“Trying to make small talk. It’s boring, sitting here in silence.”

“Well, how’d you become a mage?” George asks, closing his eyes. He doesn’t know if it’s from the weakness or the healing, but he’s starting to get tired.

“Family thing. Mom was a mage, taught me magic, and now I’m a mage.”

George pushes his head off the wall and looks at him. The crafting table has been put away and Dream leans against the wall, messing with the emeralds and some gold wire. “Sorry about her, by the way. We heard what happened.”

Dream shrugs. “It’s alright, you didn’t do anything.” His hands are shaking slightly and George pretends not to notice it. “How’d you guys become hunters for the king?”

George shrugs and tries to flex his fingers. Nothing happens. “Bad was an army deserter, Sapnap committed a few crimes, and I amassed a pretty hefty debt. It was this or jail.”

Dream nods and puts his little arts and crafts project down. One emerald is on a gold chain and the other is sitting next to a circle of twisted gold wire, although the circle is broken in one spot. “I haven’t been hunted by you guys for long, but Sapnap definitely seems like the kind of guy to commit arson as a fun weekend project.”

George laughs. “Yeah, he is. It’s a miracle Bad hasn’t had a heart attack trying to deal with him.”

Dream chuckles and cracks his knuckles. He puts both his hands in the air in front of him and takes a deep breath. George gets the gist that he’s trying to concentrate and shuts up. Dream starts incoherently mumbling under his breath and a green light starts flashing in and out slowly in the air in front of his hands. Dream mumbles faster and the light becomes solid, a pattern of lazy green swirls floating in the air. Dream abruptly stops talking and claps his hands together. The swirls disappear. He reaches forward and grabs the emerald not on the necklace, holding it in his clasped hands. He says one final thing and a green light glows through the cracks in his hands. He opens his hands and sighs in relief at the slightly luminescent emerald sitting in them.

“What’s that for?” George asks.

Dream shakes his head. “I told you earlier. Something I hope won’t be used.” He grabs the wire and twists bits around the emerald, until the emerald is firmly secured in the wire. He stands up slowly and walks over to George, squatting beside him and taking his arm. 

“Hey!” He protests, kicking his leg out. Dream holds up his free hand and George stops. He nods and puts the gold bracelet on his wrist, twisting the broken ends together. He nods and drops his arm, going back to where he was just sitting to gather his things.

He finishes packing everything up and takes his iron pickaxe to the cave wall, digging out a small entrance. “What’re you doing?” George asks.

“Leaving.”

George looks at the weird bracelet on his wrist and then back to Dream. “But I’m stuck here!”

He turns around and blocks up the entrance he had just made. “Yep.”

George sits alone in a little pocket of the cave, staring at the wall in front of him.

*****

An hour later, Bad and Sapnap finally break the gravel wall down enough to drag him out. He looks at his friends and huffs. 

“He freaking paralyzed me!” Sapnap snorts but Bad elbows him in the ribs and he tries to play it off as a cough.

*****

Dream slowly walks through a forest, in the direction he thinks he saw a village earlier. His steps are shaky with exhaustion and he plays with an emerald and gold necklace in his hand.

_He watches as the patient leaves the room. Once their gone, he runs to his mom and hugs her around the waist. She puts a hand on the top of his head and runs her hand through his sandy blond curls._

_“Didn’t you see him the other week?” He asks, looking out the door._

_She nods. “Yes. But it’s good to check on people after you’ve helped them. Wounds can always reopen.”_

_He nods and looks up at her. “What’s for dinner?”_

_She laughs and shakes her head. Her red hair sways in its braid on the back of her head. “I didn’t have anything particular in mind. Do you have an idea?”_

_He nods. “Cake!”_

_She laughs harder._

_He misses her laugh._

He looks at the necklace in his hands and carefully fastens it around his neck, letting it drop behind his hoodie. 

It isn’t exactly the best way to make sure he’s ok, but it’ll have to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fun to write because half of me is like “Let’s gooooo mage Dream POG” and the other half is like “His mom just died he’s going through the stages of grief”. And they’re just constantly at war
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Take off the Mask to Hide Your Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream learns something new about his predicament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter today because I'm brain dead and this is mostly exposition

Turns out he was right, as the village is in the direction he’d been heading. He came to the village just a day after getting stuck in the mines with George, a day after he found another cave and slept in it for who knows how long. He made a mental note after that to never use that many spells in one day ever again. Ever.

He walks on the path leading into the small village and he notices a small bulletin board posted up on the side. Purely out of curiosity, he walks up to it, freezing when he sees what’s on the top. Nailed on top of news clippings and help wanted ads is a wanted poster. Of him. 

_Dream. Wanted dead or alive._ It says. _Five thousand gold pieces for anyone who brings him in alive or proof of his death. Wanted for use of magic and conspiracy against the king._ Right above that nice little summarization is a sketch of him with his hood up and mask on. 

He walks into the village with his mask and his hoodie stuffed deep into his bag.

*****

The first thing he does is go to the cleric tower. He walks into the tall stone building and is greeted by a young girl in white robes. 

“Hello!” She waves and he smiles, waving back. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

He nods and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “Um, yeah. You see, I’ve been thinking about becoming a tracker and before I went in fully, I was wondering if you could possibly tell me about the compasses I’d be using.” He says, the lie slipping easily through his lips.

She nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back.” She walks into another room in the tower, leaving Dream to wait by himself. She comes back a minute later with a compass that doesn’t turn its needle as it’s moved. She hands it to him. “These are the kinds of compasses you’d be getting from us. If you look on the back,” he flips it over. There’s a small square on the back. “that’s a little compartment that opens up. You’d bring us something of the person or animal you’re tracking and we’d open it for you and enchant it with that item.” 

He nods. “So I could bring in a scrap of clothing or something?”

She nods. “Yep! You could also bring in anything that’s literally theirs, like a strand of hair or a drop of blood. The enchantment would be stronger. With compasses enchanted by items, the compasses tend to lose their touch over time and become more and more and more unreliable. That’s not the case with compasses enchanted with blood.”

He hands her the compass. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

She takes it and smiles. “No problem! Anything else?”

“Ah, no.” He says.

She smiles and waves as he leaves. “Have a nice day!”

He steps outside the tower and looks at the light scar on his arm from where he was stabbed by the guard, when he was running out of the throne room. 

“Crap.”

*****

_He claps his hands together and furrows his brow in concentration._

_“Do you remember the words?” She asks._

_He nods. He takes a few deep breaths and says the Galactic spell, tripping a little over the foregin language. He slowly pulls his hands apart and opens his eyes. Nothing._

_His mom giggles and he looks up at her with a pout. “You’re trying to rush it. I know you’re excited but first spells are never easy.” He nods. “Do you want to see it again?” He nods again and she lightly holds her hands together in front of her. She closes her eyes for just a moment, saying the short spell clearly for him. She opens her eyes and holds her hands out. In them, a small golden ball of light sits. He looks at it with wide eyes as she tosses it up and it spins around the room, dissolving into particles as it flies through the air. Dream looks back to his mom. Her eyes are glowing slightly, making the brown irises look like small pools of honey. It’s a very simple spell so that’s all the magic that comes off of her. She smiles when she notices him looking at her. “You ready to try again?”_

_Dream nods and holds his hands out in front of him, palms and fingers placed together lightly._

_“ㅓフフ↸ ፧フʖ ﬧׅ።ᔑリነꖎᔑﬧׅ╎リㅓ ﬧׅ〒╎ነ”_

_He opens his eyes and gasps when he notices the faint green light poking its way through the cracks between his fingers. He looks up at his mom and she beams, nodding encouragingly. He slowly opens his hands and lightly tosses the ball into the air. It spins around the room and he watches it, star struck._

*****

Clerics don’t use magic. They never have and they never will. They make potions using recipes from old books written in common, not the beautiful language Dream had learned that he speaks in when he’s alone sometimes, just to hear and feel the magic that lies under every syllable.

But they’re called magic. They’re called miracle workers. They don’t hold glowing pink ropes, only glowing pink potions. They can’t make pain fizzle out with a touch, they can only administer a potion that dulls it. They can’t cast trails of glowing particles that work better than any stitches ever could, they can only use the medical knowledge of human hands and tools.

But they’re called magic anyway.

And Dream will forever hate the profession for that.

*****

Dream is using what little money he has to buy a few apples when he turns around and his eye catches something that looks slightly familiar. He shakes his head but he walks by the stall anyway, trying to keep his distance from the person wearing the black hood. He catches a snippet of their conversation with the stall keeper as he walks by. 

“-eam. Have you seen him?”

His muscles tense not only at the words but at the familiar voice. He picks us his pace minutely, trying to not look suspicious. 

He flees the village as fast as he can, breaking out into a dead sprint as soon as his feet leave the beaten path.

After a while of hard running, he stops and presses his back against a tree, trying to suck in as much air as he can. When he’s able to breathe evenly again he reaches into his bag and pulls out his mask and his hoodie. He ties the hoodie around his waist but puts the mask on with familiar, robotic motions.

*****

He comes to a desert at some point and has to put his hoodie back on due to how absolutely cold it is with the sun about to set.

He’s walking across the sand when an enderman pops into the space a few feet to his left. He startles and jumps back, alerting the creature of his presence. The tall black creature turns to him and they stare at each other for a minute (a luxury Dream can afford with his mask). The enderman starts humming before he pops off in a cloud of purple particles, appearing closer to Dream, but on his right. Dream spins to face it. The enderman looms over him curiously, jaw opening and closing every now and then, producing a small series of clicks and clacks. Dream slowly holds a hand up in a pensive waving gesture and the enderman tilts its head.

Dream gets an idea and flexes his fingers out in front of him. He can feel the magic flowing through and around the enderman, a river of energy that leaves a small trail of purple particles in its wake. He mentally reaches out and dips into that river. He’s swept away by the current, getting teleported ten blocks forward. He collapses to his knees and starts dry heaving into the sand. 

He stands up after a few minutes and has to regain his sense of balance. The enderman still stands there, looking at him. He points a shaky finger at it. “ _You_.”

He swears the creature is smiling.

*****

He sits by a sand dune that night, curling himself close to his small fire. He stares into the flames, swiping his fingers to the side every now and then to watch them fan out in different directions. He gets bored after a short while and stands up to stretch, deciding to do something productive.

He takes his axe off his belt and grabs a few torches. He starts walking around his little camp, setting up a torch here and there to ward off any mobs. He climbs the sand dune and is about to set up another torch when he notices something in the distance. He squints. It’s a small light surrounded by three shadows.

He’s confused but then he actually thinks about it and realizes it’s probably the hunters. He puts the torches away. He stands on top of the dune for a minute and when he’s sure they can’t see him, he sits down.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, focusing his eyes on the small campfire. “ʖ።ŀŀλŀ”

*****

Sapnap shakes his head. “He’s a mage. I’m not saying that the king’s a nice guy, I’m just saying that he gave him mercy considering the situations.”

Bad laughs. “I’d hardly consider you mercy, Sapnap.”

George pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. The gold bracelet shines in the fire light. “But what if we’ve been thinking about this wrong?”

He rolls his eyes. “George, he trapped you under a butt ton of gravel and broke your leg.”

“But he healed it.” The other man rebuttes. He motions to the side with his hand as he talks and Sapnap looks at the bracelet that George can’t take off. They had tried, back in the cave. But no matter how many times they hit it with pickaxe or axe, it never even chipped. “He broke it, but he healed it and dulled the pain. I think he even felt bad about it.”

Sapnap shakes his head again. “He still broke it.” He shivers as a light breeze picks up, making the already cold desert colder. The breeze grows stronger and Bad and George shiver. The fire goes out.

Bad sighs. “I’ve got it.” He moves around, using the light from the moon and stars to find the flint and steel in their bags. He crouches next to the fire and relights it. “There we go-” The fire goes out again when another breeze picks up.

George giggles. “Bad’s getting beat by the wind.”

Bad huffs and relights the fire yet again. A breeze picks up and it goes out. Bad groans and strikes the flint and steel again, making sparks fall on the wood. It catches and he glances around hesitantly. When it doesn’t go out he sits back with a content sigh. “There.” 

It gets put out a moment later by another gust of wind. Sapnap and George burst into laughter as Bad lets out a high pitched, frustrated whine.

On a dune not too far away, a man in a mask laughs with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeeee a short chapter but it's at least a chapter. Life is hectic and I'm using this as a way to calm down from everything so hopefully the longer chapters will start up soon. Thanks for all the kudos and comments! Reading and responding to comments is one of the best parts of my day (even though all my responses sound so cookie cutter. I literally have no idea how to express gratitude)


	4. Old Temple for a Fake God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream gets chased through a desert and a savanna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW/TW: PANIC ATTACK. Please be carful reading this if you have any issues with anxiety or panic attacks or anything that could set one off. If you still want to read the chapter, stop at the bold and keep scrolling until you see more bold. I'll summarize what you're missing at the end

He wakes up before the sun rises and packs up the few things he had set to the side. He starts the trek across the desert, trying to put as much distance between himself and the hunters as he can. He walks without breaks well into the middle of the morning. The sun starts beating down on the back of his neck and he has to wipe the sweat off of it more than he would like to. His mask covers most of his face and he chuckles at the idea of a curved tan line right below his nose. Eventually though, the heat and the sun’s glare become so annoying that he pulls his hood up and the shade it brings is refreshing. 

He finds a small pond around noon and decides that since he got barely any sleep the night before, he should rest. Maybe not sleep, but rest. He should have also covered more ground than the hunters, since it’s easier to travel alone than with a group, no matter how small. So he should be able to afford a bit of time for himself before they catch up.

He sits down in the sand and dips his hand into the small pond, playing with the water as it rolls over his palms, making little lines through the thin layer of dirt caked to his hands. The water is surprisingly cool and he rolls up his sleeves and starts rubbing his wet hands over his forearms. It’s a weird way to cool off but Dream doesn’t care because it feels good.

He sets his axe and his bag to the side, taking his mask off and splashing some water on his face. When his hands come back slightly muddy he washes them off in the pool again. He takes his hoodie off and crouches by the pond, sticking his hands in and rubbing the water all over his face. The water in front of him clouds up with dirt as he soaks his hands in.

He thinks about walking in what he’s wearing now, a black turtleneck shirt with sleeves that go just past his elbows, a pair of brown leather riding pants, thick soled boots, and the emerald necklace that hangs around his neck and swishes with each of his movements. He considers it heavily before sighing and putting the hoodie and mask back on. The hoodie is comfortable enough and the mask and the hood keep him from getting sunburnt.

He grabs an apple from his pack at his side and takes a bite, mentally tracking how much stamina he has.

He sits by the pond and takes a moment to breath.

*****

The hunters catch up faster than he’d like.

He’s walking through the desert, walking towards something he can vaguely see in the distance when he hears a shout.

“There he is!”

He turns around. The hunters stand on top of a dune over fifty feet away. His breath catches in his throat and he turns back around and runs as fast as he can towards the thing. He can hear the hunters giving chase behind him.

As he gets closer, he realizes the thing he’d been running to was a temple. He ducks into the entrance as soon as he’s close enough and pulls out his pickaxe. He runs to the center of the temple and starts chipping away at the floor. His thoughts race a million miles a minute, all trying to come up with some kind of plan from the bits and pieces he’s scrambling to come up with. He can take the tnt, he can blow it up, he can dig a hole in the wall and hide, he can momentarily trap the hunters in the pit, he can-

The block breaks and he jumps down into the pit, rolling to cushion his fall. He stands up and has half a second of clarity to think that this was a terrible idea before he hears shouts from above.

“He’s in the pit!”

“Go!”

He opens the nearest chest, finds nothing useful, and closes it. He hears a thud and he turns around to see Sapnap crouching in front of him. The hunter smiles and grips the sword in his hand tight, lunging forward. Dream sidesteps the attack and kicks the back of the hunter’s knee. Sapnap falls. 

His mind kicks into knight mode and he starts rapidly assessing the situation. Two hunters above, one down here. Close quarters combat, avoid the center of the room. The other two should be coming down any minute and he’ll have to take them all on. He unclips his axe from his belt.

Bad drops into the pit. He holds his sword up and charges at Dream. Dream steps forward and blocks the hit with the hilt of his axe. Sapnap stands up and grabs his sword beside him, swiping at him. Dream pushes Bad off and takes a step back. An arrow flies at him from above and he takes another side step to avoid it. It lands harmlessly in the sandstone wall.

Sapnap rushes him and he exchanges a few blows before Bad also charges at him. Sapnap swings at him and he swings his axe sideways into the blade. The hunter loses his grip on the weapon and he lets it go as it flies toward Bad. Bad stops running toward him and Sapnap looks at it on the floor before turning back to Dream. Dream doesn’t miss a beat and charges forward, lowering his shoulder and slamming it into Sapanp’s chest. He falls to the ground. Another arrow comes for him and embeds itself in his upper arm before he gets a chance to dodge. He hisses but ignores the pain as Bad rushes him again. He parries another blow.

Sapnap gets up and runs to the other side of the room to grab his sword. He turns back to the fight between Bad and Dream and starts running over. An arrow flies down, and he ducks to avoid it. “George!” He loses his grip and drops the sword. It falls on the pressure plate.

Dream pushes Bad back again and follows it up with a kick to the hunter’s chest. Bad collapses and at just that moment he hears the tnt under him hiss.

He looks up at Sapnap with wide eyes. “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Sapnap screams back. 

Dream pushes himself into the corner of the room and looks for any cracks in the wall to grab onto. He finds a few and pulls himself up onto the wall. Bad and Sapnap stand up and start mining into a seperate wall, pushing themselves into a hole and blocking it up behind them. He can hear George running away above them.

The temple shakes with the force of the blast and a wave of heat swirls through the pit. The wall crumbles and Dream falls to the crumbling floor. He sits up and his vision is blurry and his ears are ringing but he can see a hole blown into one of the walls. He crawls into the small area and blocks himself up, pushing up against the wall and breathing hard.

A few seconds later, he hears the voices of the hunters through the wall, albeit muffled.

“Where’d he go?”

“Must’ve pearled out from the hole in the roof.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta go find him.”

“Geo-”

 **He loses track of the hunters voices and suddenly the only thing he can hear is his own shallow breathing. It’s quick and Dream’s head fills with cotton as his already dark world blurs.** He curls himself into a tight ball and starts breathing quicker. He distantly registers that he should be taking deep breaths but all he can hear is his own breathing and he doesn't want to risk losing that because he decides to slow down. His entire body shakes and his throat closes up. He feels like he’s dying.

He curls himself up tighter and starts breathing harder. His head becomes light and dizzy and he squeezes his eyes shut. He digs his fingers into his injured arm and it screams in protest. The pain brings him back slightly and it’s enough for him to hiss through his teeth. His mother’s voice plays in his head.

_I need you to take a breath for me, Dream. Four seconds._

He takes a shaky breath, counting four seconds in his head.

_Good. Now hold it for four._

He counts to four in his head, holding all the air in his lungs.

_Out through your mouth for four._

He slowly breathes out for four seconds, resisting the automatic urge to take in a shallow breath.

_Good, almost done. Hold for four._

He holds his breath for four seconds. Once that’s over, he takes another slow breath for four seconds. He holds it. He lets it out. He holds it. He repeats the pattern until his vision clears up and until he stops shaking.

**He takes a few more deep breaths and then tries to assess the situation despite the exhaustion that sets into his entire being.**

His arm hurts and still has an arrow shaft in it, although it’s broken in half. His body hurts in general from falling from the wall and from the explosion. He sighs and leans his head against the wall behind him, ignoring how everything hurts.

He holds his hand out, palm facing up. “⎓╎።ŀ”

A small flame shoots up in his palm, lighting up the small area. He gently tosses it up and it floats in front of him. Dream takes his mask off and throws it to the side. He grabs the arrow shaft in his shoulder, takes a deep breath in and yanks it out quickly, grinding his teeth together at how much it stings. He throws the arrow to the side, where it clatters to the floor. His hoodie joins the mask on the floor a second later.

He looks back at the wound on his shoulder. Blood spreads through his shirt, staining the already dark material. He sighs and presses a hand to it. His hand stains with blood, but he ignores it. “።ŀㅓŀリŀ።ᔑﬧׅ╎フリ”

A purple strand of light pulls out from the center of his hand and starts flying across the open wound, closing the skin shut. A minute later, his shoulder is as good as new. He slumps on the wall and closes his eyes.

They’re trying to kill him. He knew this of course but it’s just starting to sink in. Before they’d just chased him. But that-they were fighting to seriously damage, if not kill. Dream pulls his knees up to his chest, wraps his arms around them, and rests his chin on top. They were trying to kill him.

The small flame dances in the center of the room, shining on the small golden runes that dance across his cheeks, folding and melting into new ones every few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who skipped the panic attack:
> 
> First of all, I commend you for taking your mental health into account and making adjustments based on what you know you can and can't handle. You didn't miss much. Dream has a panic attack after the explosion and remembers his mother leading him through a square breathing routine. He follows the pattern a few times and comes out of it tired. I highly recommend the routine for anyone with anxiety, stress, or anyone who's had a panic attack. It's the only breathing pattern that's ever worked for me
> 
> I'm thinking about making these chapters longer by like, 1k words at minimum, but that would make updates less frequent. If I continue to keep them this length, I'll be able to stick closer to my outline as well as keep updates pretty close together. I'd also be able to make the shorter chapters better (maybe) because I have less motivation when writing longer chapters. Thoughts?
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Ephemeral Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream finds a mountain and doesn't think things through until he's forced to

Dream makes it across to desert within another day, where he finds a savanna waiting for him on the other side of a river. He crosses the small waterway and walks through the grassy plains, stopping every now and then to take some wood from one of the tall trees with a large top. He imagines that a forest full of them would look very pretty, with all the leaves spread out to make a nice canopy. Unfortunately, the wood is orange. He scoffs at the planks in his inventory. It’d ruin the entire aesthetic of such a beautiful forest. That’s probably why they’re so spread out.

He keeps walking across the plains, and as he goes, the ground becomes more and more elevated. He climbs on top of one of the stand alone hills and holds his hand up to where his eyes are under the mask. It, of course, doesn’t shade his eyes, but old habits die hard. He looks around the biome and takes in the steadily rising ground around him, which peaks at one colossal mountain to his right. He looks at it and lets out a low whistle.

One more look at the terrain around him and he sets down the hill, walking in the direction of the large mountain. He whistles a small tune as he walks, a ditty he picked up at a tavern what he feels like had to be a lifetime ago.

*****

The plains of the savanna are deceiving and it takes way longer than he thought it should to reach the mountain. It’d be sufficient time for the hunters to catch up with him. Which is exactly what happens. 

So he’s being chased by the hunters. Again.

He runs across the flat plain, dodging arrows as he picks up speed. The brown grass around him reaches up to his knees and hinders his movements, but it’s doing the same for the hunters, so he’s only mildly annoyed about it. He jerks to the left as another arrow flies past him and passes harmlessly through the grass. 

“Leave me alone!” He shouts as he stumbles. He regains his balance and resumes his running.

“Ohhh Dreammmm!” One of them calls. He ignores the singsong words and keeps running, towards the mountain. He gets closer and closer, and the mountain gets bigger and bigger. It towers straight up into the sky, having no inclines to climb up like a regular mountain. The entire monolith is made of stone except for the small strip of dirt coating the top and the peak is shrouded in wispy clouds. 

He stands at the base. It looks unclimbable and insurmountable but Dream doesn’t have many options. An arrow whizzes past him, burying itself into the stone a foot away from him. He grabs it and yanks it out. He holds his pickaxe in his other hand and takes one deep breath before he starts climbing, using the arrow and the pickaxe to grab the rock and pull himself up. Cracks in the rock below suffice as foot holes.

He climbs up fifteen feet before the hunters are swarming below him, yelling at each other.

“He’s climbing!”

“We can see that, Sapnap!”

He pulls himself up and takes the arrow out of the rock, stabbing it into another bit of stone. It snaps in half. He loses his grip and almost falls but he quickly regains his footing. He looks down at the hunters and nausea rolls in his gut. He ignores it in favor of throwing the broken arrow at George’s head. It lands right on its target.

“Hey!” George shouts, looking up at him.

He turns back to the mountain and pushes his forehead against the stone, taking a few deep breaths and closing his eyes. Breath. Analyze. Adapt. He opens his eyes and with renewed vigor, he finds a handhold and pulls himself up the stone.

He keeps climbing up the side of the mountain, making slow progress but progress non the less. He hears the hunters coming after him, towering up using blocks they mine from the mountain itself.

Dream keeps climbing.

*****

After what felt like five years of pain but was probably more like an hour, Dream is able to stand on one of the small platforms created by the dirt near the top. He reaches the top with aching legs and sore arms, pulling himself up onto the flat area. He collapses onto the dirt, spreading himself out and breathing hard.

He finally catches his breath and sits up. Despite his initial protest at the idea, he peeks over the mountain. The hunters are still digging up and Dream’s stomach twists itself into knots when he sees the ground. He scrambles away from the edge and tries to calm his rapid breathing.

He looks around the mountain and takes a second to realize that he doesn’t know how he’s going to get down. He hypes himself up and takes another look over the edge, but he doesn’t see any water below. There’s a very small pond where he stands at the top, along with two scraggly trees, but he doesn’t have a bucket to put it in. He’d gathered some iron in the mine, but most of it went towards making tools, and now he only has two ingots. He peeks over the edge again. The hunters are getting closer, and he doesn’t think they thought this idea through either. 

He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts down at the nearest hunter. “Can I have a piece of iron?!”

Bad looks up at him from twenty feet down. “What?!”

“Some iron!”

“No you muffinhead!”

He sighs and goes back to the center of his little oasis. He walks to the small pond and sits on the edge, taking off his boots and setting them to the side. He rolls his pants up and dips his feet into the pond, laying down in the grass behind him and crossing his arms over his chest. He probably has thirty minutes before the hunters get here, he might as well enjoy them before they get up here and realize that they’re all stuck up here together.

They can make a campfire, hold hands, and sing kumbaya. Dream chuckles.

*****

He’s woken up from his power nap by the hunters finally reaching him. He hears some commotion and slowly opens his eyes, blinking away the lingering sleep. Once he gets a bearing of his surroundings, he sits up and takes his feet out of the pond. Bad is pulling himself over the edge and once he does, he falls face up into the dirt and just lays there. Dream shrugs and lays back down, stretching out fully on the grass.

A minute goes by. “What’re you doing?” Dream opens his eyes and holds his head up. Bad is still laying on the grass but he’s looking at him.

“We can’t get down safely so I’m just chillin’.” Bad’s eyes go wide and he jumps up and scrambles to the edge, looking down. Dream puts his head back down. “No use. There’s no lakes or ponds.”

“Bad!” Someone calls.

“Coming!”

There’s more noise and then a thud as someone else lands in the grass. Dream doesn’t really care who it is at the moment. A few minutes go by and then there’s another thud.

“What is he doing?” Someone asks. It sounds like Sapnap.

Bad sighs. He can tell it’s Bad who sighs because he’s heard Bad sigh so many times that the noise is ingrained into his brain. “We’re stuck up here, so there’s not much to do.”

There’s a lot of movement and Dream hears footsteps coming towards him. Something cool is pressed against his neck. He opens his eyes. Sapnap stands over him, holding a sword to his throat, and staring right down at him. “Then give me a good reason as to why I shouldn’t kill him right now.”

“Because, you muffin,” Bad starts. He’s cut off when Dream kicks his leg out at Sapnap, jumping up and grabbing Sapnap’s wrist as the other man falls and drops his sword. He twists Sap’s arm behind his back and pushes him to the ground, putting his knee on his lower back.

“Because then you’d have to find a way to get my dead body down the mountain. And that would just be extra dead weight.”

George laughs from where he’s laying in the grass. “ _Dead_ weight. Get it?”

“Shut up, George.” Sapnap mumbles. Dream lets him go and gets up off of him, standing up and stretching, only to fall right back into the grass beside Sapnap. He sits down and plays with the long brown blades, squishing them between his fingers.

Bad is the only one standing up and he starts pacing. “Ok, so we can’t get down by jumping or climbing, and we can’t fulfill our mission and kill and or capture Dream.” He says to himself. “We don’t have many resources, there’s no food sources, and it would take forever to mine down..”

Dream leans over and whispers to Sapnap, who’s still laying face down in the grass. “What’s he doing?”

“Give him a minute.” He mumbles back. Dream nods.

Bad continues pacing. “...and our picks might break if we try it so that’s out of the question since we can’t get any iron and we don’t have enough to make everyone a pickaxe-” He cuts himself off by stopping in his steps and snapping his fingers. “We’re stuck.”

George claps. “Bravo, brave and courageous leader.”

“Brave and courageous mean the same thing.” Dream points out.

“Stupid and Dream mean the same thing.” He retorts, crossing his arms over his chest. Dream sticks his tongue out.

“Stop fighting!” Bad whines, tilting his head into the sky. “We’ve gotta get down from here and bickering won’t help.”

Sapnap finally sits up. “So what do we do?” Bad turns around and looks over the edge of the mountain. Sapnap punches Dream in the arm.

“Badddddd!” Dream yells. “Sapnap punched meeeee!”

“No I didn’t!” Sapnap huffs. Bad turns to glare at them. “Who are you going to believe, Bad? Me,” He gestures to himself “or a criminal?” He gestures to Dream.

Bad puts his head in his hands. “You’re a criminal too, Sapnap. And don’t punch him, I’m ninety percent sure he knows how to get down and won’t tell us because we can’t kill him if we’re all stuck up here.”

“Technically we can kill him.” George offers. “It’s just not in our favor to do so.”

Dream hums. “True.”

Bad sighs again and faces him. “Do you know how to get down?”

Dreams shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.”

Sapnap punches him in the arm again. “Tell us you piece of-”

“Language!” Bad chides quickly as Dream tackles Sapnap and they start grappling. “Stop fighting!”

George sits up and starts to pump his fists up and down in front of him. “Fight, fight, fight, fight-”

Bad groans.

*****

Ten minutes later, Bad is laying on the ground, George is laying next to him, and Sapnap is laying face down a few feet away from them. Dream is sitting on Sapnap’s back to stop him from fighting him. Again.

“Do you know how to get down or not?” George asks.

“I don’t know.” Dream says. “That is some important information. What would I get in return?”

George pumps a fist into the air. “This bracelet.”

Dream snorts. “What, you don’t like my gift?”

“No.” George says. “We don’t know what it does.”

“Can I get up?” Sapnap asks.

“Will you fight me?” Dream asks.

“No.” Dream gets off Sapnap. He rolls over and glares at Dream. “My back hurts.”

Dream nods. “Good.”

“What does the bracelet do?” Bad asks.

Dreams shakes his head. “I either tell you that, or how to get down the mountain. Not both.”

The other three sit up and share a look. Bad sighs. “How do we get down?”

Dream smiles. “Do any of you know how to MLG water?”

The looks he gets gives him the answer he was looking for.

*****

“How do we know we can trust you to fulfill your promise?” Sapnap asks. He and the other two hunters stand facing Dream, who stands near the edge, holding one of their buckets with water from the pond.

“You can’t.” Dream says as he tips himself back and over the edge of the cliff. The hunters run forward and Sapnap reaches out and catches the edge of his mask. Combined with Dream’s feet still on the edge of the cliff, Dream is basically hanging off the edge. “That’s not a good idea.”

Sapnap bears his teeth. “I don’t really care right now. You’re going to follow through, right?”

Dream reaches his hand up and undoes the mask’s clasp on the back of his head. It comes off and Dream falls over the edge, leaving the hunters. The wind whips past him as he falls and he twists his body so he’s facing the ground. He spreads his arms and legs out to the side and creates some drag, slowing his fall slightly. The ground gets closer and just as he’s about to hit it, he throws the water bucket down. It puddles out and he lands safely in it.

He climbs out of the water and looks up at the small dots that make up the hunters. He stands there, looking at them until one of them jumps off and falls. He keeps falling until he lands in the water. It’s Sapnap.

He runs up to the man and pulls him out of the water. Sapnap stumbles and Dream tightens his grasp on his shoulders. “Hey, hey, you ok?”

Sapnap blinks hard a few times and looks at Dream quizzically. “You look different than what I imagined.” Dream nods and takes his mask from the man’s hands.

“Yeah, yeah, cool. Now I’m just going to make sure you’re ok real quick.” He holds out his hand. “∴ŀᔑꖌリŀነነ” Gray smoke swirls in his palm and he quickly grabs Sapnap’s shoulder again. The smoke curls around the other man’s body and he drops like a sack of bricks. Dream catches him and lowers him to the ground.

“What’d you do to me?!” Sapnap asks angrily, although it isn’t as effective when he’s laying helplessly on the ground. “What’s on your face?”

Dream smiles and walks over to bucket the water before Bad and George can jump down. “Don’t worry, it’ll last ten minutes, tops.” He scoops the water into the bucket and sets it down beside Sapnap.

And then, he runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream: Watch as I fit effortlessly into your group dynamic  
> Sapnap: How dare you assume I would allow that
> 
> I'm alive! Chapters will start coming out less frequently, I'd say one every week but don't count on it. Life just punts you into the sun sometimes and you're just there for the ride


	6. Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different place that Dream doesn't belong to, even though it feels right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Cold](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeNuh8MGRfM) by the Oh Hellos. Also, just in case you didn't know, a Minecraft block is around three feet
> 
> This chapter was a grand thing called Executive Dysfunction vs Creative and Productive Brain

The hunters catch up quicker than he would have liked. They’re chasing him across a plain, with mountains to their left. They’re screaming and yelling for him to get back and their voices hold more emotion than he’s heard from them before. 

“Dreammmm!” Sapnap yells, voice full of rage.

“Dream!” Bad shouts and he sounds hurt.

“Dreammmm!” George screams, a mix of both of his companions.

He ignores their cries and pushes more power into his legs, trying to pick up the pace. His feet hit the ground in a steady rhythm and he would have found comforting in its familiarity if he wasn’t running for his life. His canvas backpack hits uncomfortably against his back but he ignores it. He keeps running, trying to keep his breathing even as he shifts left, following the curve of the mountain.

And he sees it. A hole is carved into the side of the mountain. Netherrack and lava seep from the rough edges of hewed stone, and a broken nether portal sits centrifugally to the pile of other-dimensional blocks.

He changes directions and sprints into the hole, collapsing to his knees and digging through the chest by the portal as soon as he gets to it. An enchanted gold sword, (he knows it’s enchanted with Bane of Arthropods before he even checks the symbols scratched into the base of the blade. It radiates a certain energy that makes the hairs on his arms stand on end. He wants to rub them just to be sure there’s no spiders on them) a flint and steel, and three blocks of obsidian. He grabs it all and faces the portal. The portal that’s missing two blocks of obsidian, and had no crying obsidian. 

“Dream!” Someone calls. He takes a deep breath and starts placing the missing obsidian blocks on the almost complete portal frame, keeping one of the black rocks for himself. He takes the flint and steel out and scrapes it against the side of the portal quickly. Purple mist springs to life on the edge of the portal, quickly swirling towards the middle.

He looks behind him. The hunters aren’t too far behind, but it’s enough for him to get a head start.

He steps into the portal.

*****

He stumbles out of the purple mist, gasping for air as he’s immediately hit by the wave of heat that accompanies the nether. He catches his breath and straightens himself, looking around. He’s on a basic mass of netherrack that sinks into the sea of lava like a bank slopes into a river bed. It’s hot, the air is stuffy, everything is so red that the color’s already burned itself into his retinas, and he feels great.

( _“Tell me more about it!”_

_“I’ve already told you everything I know!”_

_“Then tell me again!” He pulls gently at her skirt. “Pleaseeeee.”_

_She chuckles. “Ok, ok. The nether is this place full of fire, lava, and it has terrain unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. There’s barely any grass and the grass that is there is blue and red. There are entire biomes covered in black and brown sand and you can’t step there because you’ll start sinking.”_

_“Soul sand.” He says._

_She nods. “And what’s not grass or soul sand is a hot red block that feels like a mix of clay and stone. There’s no water and where seas and oceans aren’t, there’s vast expanses of lava.”_

_He balls his little nine year old hands into fists. “It sounds cool, but bad.”_

_She squats down to his eye level. “But there, mages never get tired.”_

_He furrows his brow at the new addition to the usually cut and dry tale. “Why?”_

_Her eyes sparkle. “Because it’s completely full of_ magic _.”_ )

Magic holds the entire nether together like strings holding up a marionette doll. He runs across the dry terrain, hoodie tied around his waist, showing his black turtleneck shirt with sleeves that reach just past his elbows and the gold and emerald necklace that bounces on his chest with each step. His mask is moved to the side of his head. The golden runes move across his cheeks, never staying still, melting and folding into new runes every few moments and his green eyes glow bright. His one facial scar shows pale against his tan skin, stretching from just above his left eyebrow down to the center of his cheek, disrupting the smatter of freckles smeared across both his cheeks and his nose.

( _He adjusts the mask on his face for the umpteenth time that minute. In front of him, the commander of his regiment paces up and down the line of knights. He wants to take off his mask and breath in the hot, magic infused air of the nether but he knows what would happen if he did. Just being in the nether is enough for his runes to show, something they usually only do when he casts a spell._ )

He keeps running and for the first time in a very long time, he feels _free_. He feels _safe_. He feels _happy_.

He hears shouts behind him but he ignores them as he slides down a netherrack slope, holding his arms out for balance and stumbling slightly at the sudden stop when the ground evens out and he’s met with a strait of lava to cross if he wants to get to another mass of netherrack. He takes a deep breath just as someone behind him speaks.

“Come peacefully.” Bad says. He’s probably holding his sword up. “It’s over, Dream.”

He can’t help the giggle that bubbles from his mouth as he grins and holds both of his hands out, forming a triangle with his thumbs and pointer fingers. “For you, maybe. ⎓╎።ŀ ።ŀነ╎ነﬧׅᔑリᓵŀ” Magic pulls from the air around him, swirling around him, turning into bright orange swirls of fire that congregate in the empty space between his fingers. He separates his hands and the fire splits in half, forming two rings that slide down his wrists, twisting their way down his forearms.

“Crap guys, he’s doing something-” George says. Dream keeps his back to the hunters as he walks into the shallow lava, wading through the still magma with little difficulty. He walks to the other side ten blocks away and pulls himself up onto the edge, sitting there and dipping his feet into the molten liquid, despite the fact that he’s still wearing boots.

He sighs and looks up at the hunters. They’re far enough away that he can see them, but he can’t make out their faces. “Dang this is nice.” He says, loud enough for them to hear. “Too bad you three can’t feel it.”

George’s shoulders drop with a loud sigh and Bad groans, but Sapnap holds his sword up and levels it at Dream’s head, despite the fact that they’re thirty feet apart. “Get back over here so we can end this, once and for all.”

He sighs and pulls his feet out of the lava, disrupting the slag floating on top. He stands up and stretches, letting the fire resistance bands on his arms fade. “I’m going to have to politely refuse.” He stretches and turns around. “See y’all later!” He calls over his shoulder, listening to their dumbfounded silence. 

He starts walking away. And _dang_ does it feel good to walk for once.

*****

He keeps walking across the nether and eventually he comes across a nether fortress. He climbs up and over the small wall bordering the pathway and starts exploring the fortress, boots echoing with each step he makes on the blazing bricks. He’s going along, trying to find anything interesting, when two wither skeletons turn the corner up ahead of him.

He stares at them for a second as they raise their swords and charge at him. He watches idly and just before he gets within their reach, he stretches a hand out and _feels_ it. The magic strings holding it all together, spun as intricately as a spider’s web. As delicately as he can, he plucks one. The frontmost wither skeleton collapses in a pile of charred bones, a pitch black string of magic floating up from the bones, moving as fluidly as liquid. He flicks his wrist to the side and the strand shoots out, piercing the other skeleton through the skull. It collapses and its magic joins the first one’s.

Wither magic is interesting. It has a black string core, but a few small strands tear away from the group, loosely wrapping around the larger strand. A fine black mist shifts around the entire thing, flowing with the general direction. Dream moves his arm out in a circle and the magic obeys, making a wide circle around him protectively.

Any and all mobs are met with a resistance the likes of which they have no chance against. It makes gathering a small bundle of blaze rods all the much easier.

*****

He’s sitting on the edge of one of the nether fortress’s higher bridges when he spots the hunters. They’re trudging across the ground, and Dream knows without a doubt that at least one of them is dehydrated. 

It doesn’t take long for the hunters to spot him. One of them looks up, and seeing the green hoodie on Dream’s waist, shouts to the others. They all run over to one of the bridge’s pillars and start climbing up. Dream takes a deep breath and slides off the small wall, standing on the walkway. The hunters get closer and closer and he walks away, down the path. A minute later, two pairs of boots hit the bricks behind him. 

“Hey!” He turns around to face Sapnap and George. Bad joins them a second later. Sapnap draws his sword and George knocks an arrow onto his bow string. Sapnap starts talking again. “You can’t run forever, Dream! Let’s end this right here, right now!” George straightens up and draws his bow string back, resting his middle finger on the edge of his lip. Bad draws his sword behind them.

Dream doesn’t respond for a few seconds and George releases the arrow, sending it flying towards him. He flicks a hand out and the black strand of magic around him condenses in front of him a circle no larger than a dinner plate. The arrow hits it and breaks, falling to the ground. Dream circles his arm out again and the magic complies. The three hunters watch as the arrow disintegrates and falls apart on the ground.

“Wither magic. One touch of this will trigger a series of rapid stages.” He says nonchalantly, counting off the stages on his fingers as he talks. “Stage one, your skin tightens around your muscles and bones as the body part affected by the magic is leached of all moisture, including the water in your blood. Stage two, your body starts turning gray. Stage three, you disintegrate.” The hunters look at them with thinly veiled fear in their eyes. “It all happens in less than five minutes.”

“Ho-how do you know?” Bad asks, voice slightly shaky. “You could be lying to us.”

Dream shrugs.

( _He watches as the knight wriggles and screams on the ground, trying to hold his rapidly graying ankle as flakes of skin start falling off in pieces. He pours a health potion over it, trying to keep the knight still as he works on his ankle. As the only one in the small regiment with medical training, he’s automatically pushed towards any injury. Including wither burns. He knows that all he would have to do to stop the process is reach out and pull the magic from it, but then everyone would know his biggest secret. He’d be pulled away from the man before he could even finish helping him. He pours more health potion on the wound and hopes that this man forgives him for something he cannot do._ )

“Experience.”

Everyone stands still for a tense second. Bad mutters something and George and Sapnap’s eyes fill with steel. George knocks another arrow and Sapnap brings out his own bow. Dream takes up a fighting stance. Sapnap and George draw their bows and Dream only has a second to spread the magic out in front of him in a thin veil before they start firing. Arrows hit the barrier, pushing halfway through it before breaking and dropping to ground in a pile of disintegrating wooden shafts. More arrows hit the barrier as George and Sapnap reload and fire quickly. 

He furrows his brow in concentration, leaving an opening in his defense that Bad takes advantage of, running forward, jumping around the wither magic via standing on the slight rise bordering the walkway. He lunges toward Dream, sword raised, and Dream startles at his sudden appearance, stripping a piece of magic off his wall and flicking it out towards Bad, who backs up.

An arrow flies dangerously close to him, going through the gap in the wall. He jumps back and in frustration, takes down the whole wall, thinning it out into a long string and shooting it towards the two archers with an outstretched arm. Their eyes widen in fear as the magic takes a hard turn just before it reaches them, instead slicing through and corroding their bow strings.

He lashes both strings out again and when the hunters step back, he draws them back in to circle around him. Bad raises his sword, positioned to slash down onto the cord. Dream simply breaks off a strand and throws his arm out, the string following the trajectory towards Bad. The hunter lowers his sword and stumbles back and Dream circles it around Bad a few times before drawing it back in, spinning on his heel, and running down the pathway. It doesn’t take long for the sound of three boots to follow him.

He keeps running until he gets to a point where the bridge connects to flat land instead of pillaring above the ground and he vaults over the small ridge, feet hitting the netherrack with a hard thump. He barely gives himself time to catch his balance before he’s off, running across the nether.

The hunters keep up with him, but they can’t match his pace and have to settle for lagging a few blocks behind him. He spots a red forest and sprints into it, running up to a tree and climbing up the vines to the top. He gets up and uses the wither magic to cut the vines, making sure the hunters can’t follow him. He sees the hunters enter the dense forest and he turns around, starting his voyage across the treetops.

*****

He leaves the forest and keeps walking until he finds a blue forest almost an hour later. He walks through that until he spots a bastion remnant, which he mines into and starts exploring. A few piglin brutes run at him but backtrack as soon as they feel the wither magic radiating off him in waves. He nods to them and they bear their tusks in anger as he brushes past them, bee lining straight to the treasure in the center of the structure.

The chest doesn’t hold much that he wants, just an enchanted book that he thumbs through for a second before dropping it back in the chest, a pair of golden boots, and a few odds and ends. He does find a crossbow and a bundle of bolts, though, that he keeps, attaching them to his backpack. 

Just as he finishes digging through the chest, he feels magic surge around him. He looks down. The emerald on his necklace glows bright green, floating just above his chest. He takes a sharp breath as it jerks to the left.

He stands up and he _runs_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Broken portals are portals that were abandoned long enough for netherrack and lava to seep through into the overworld and surround the portal. With time, the portal corrodes until the obsidian collapses in on itself, breaking the portal. Left alone long enough, the obsidian absorbs the lingering magic from the netherrack and turns in crying obsidian.](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/f9/e5/88/f9e58879688b396db17cd4daf5f664df.png)

**Author's Note:**

> A very special thanks to the anonymous comment on chapter one who gave me the title for this work (along with another fantastic option, but I went with the first) as well as helping me get my crap together when it comes to tagging. Thank you, internet person out there, I owe much gratitude to you


End file.
